


call me maybe

by sarcastissa, SnorkleShit



Series: coffee mouths [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Multi, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Relationship(s), Phone Calls & Telephones, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 01:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2603879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastissa/pseuds/sarcastissa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnorkleShit/pseuds/SnorkleShit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your voice is just as sweet over the speakers.</p><p> </p><p>(roleplay between myself and sarcastissa adapted onto here)</p>
            </blockquote>





	call me maybe

**Author's Note:**

> I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you  
> Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you.  
> I've seen the waters that make your eyes shine  
> Now I'm shining too  
> \- 'Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop' by Landon Pigg

Tucker sighed and plopped down on the couch in the common room of his and Church’s dorm. Behind his door, his little brother was finally sleeping. He had barely been able to pick Junior up off of the floor of the goddamn apartment where that failure of a mother was just going at the boy. He couldn’t stand it. He huffed and angry breath and threw the tennis ball in his hand across the room just as Church was walking in.

"Tucker?" Church paused and took in his frazzled best friend. "Your mom?"

"She shouldn’t be allowed to have kids!" Tucker hissed through his teeth.

"I know." Church nodded. "Is there a particular reason that Wash asked me for your number today?" Tucker actually smiled. Church shook his and disappeared behind his bedroom door, calling behind him. "I don’t wanna know."

Washington headed out of his last class, running a hand through his hair as he looked up at the darkening sky. He’d barely paid any attention in his class, debating what to text Tucker. Or whether he should or not. 

With a sigh, he decided to just go with it.

_This is Wash. Have you accepted Britney Spears as your lord and saviour?_

Tucker heard his phone vibrate on the coffee table and looked up. He snatched it up angrily, ready to tell of his mother via text message. He paused whenever he saw the number, and grinned as he read the message. He leaned back on the couch, staring at the message with a gentle smile on his face.

Eventually he realized that he should probably text back.

_I have fifteen minutes to hear your propaganda before we schedule a second date._

Washington felt a wave of relief when Tucker replied.

_You’re short out of luck, I'm just a salesman, and a bad one at that. So you’re sure you want another one? I’m flattered._

Tucker grinned at the phone and bit his lips as he tried to think of something witty to say.

_Really? Damn, I was looking forward to your sales pitch. Of course I want another one. Ask the sleeping teenager in my room, you’re the only thing that made me smile today. So Italian?_

Washington frowned at the phone as he walked.

_I’m assuming that means that everything didn’t go great. I’m sorry. And yeah, italian is the shit. I used to love Chinese but I don’t anymore. And you can’t beat garlic, man._

Tucker sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.

_Nothing to worry about, just family. You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you have a favorite Italian place or should I pick?_

_No, it’s better if you pick. Not to overstep my boundaries, but is your brother okay? I’m just a bit of a worrier, is all. Sorry if that’s not okay._

Washington pocketed the phone as he crossed the street, favouring safety.

Tucker smiled a little bit.

_I know of a little hole in the wall where we can go. And there’s no overstep. He’s scared, but he’ll be okay. I have a kind of crazy family. Its nothing that hasn’t happened before. No need to worry._

_I’m glad he’s okay. Hope things get better. Just got done with my last class, I'll be heading home and printing off some of those photos._

Washington tripped a little bit, and hoped nobody had seen.

_I’m glad, too. And I’m putting a plan together to change things. I just got home and I am about to make some macaroni and cheese._

Tucker stood and pocketed his phone before moving to the kitchen. He frowned.

_Tell me why it is that males in college don’t feel the need to do dishes?_

_They’re too busy getting ping pong balls stuck in their nostrils and eating monster pizzas. That’s good, that you’ve got a plan. I feel like by the time I get home North will have made an entire meal so he won’t feel bad about harassing me about life choices all night. I feel like since South ignores him, he takes his brotherly nagging out on me. Which I then pass on to Connie. It’s a wonderful cycle._

A group of teenagers skateboarded past him, holding beers and jeering at him. His skin crawled, and he walked a little faster. He hated walking alone, especially at night. He’d once broken the nose of a lady who’d accidentally frightened him at the bus stop. 

Tucker laughed out loud.

_I am so jealous. Can I be his little brother? Can he take care of me and give me food? I’m scrubbing pots right now, so if you want to continue to talk, you’ll have to call me._

Washington clicked the little phone icon above Tucker’s contact, and held it up to his ear as he turned the corner. It was fully dark now, and Washington stuck his other hand in his pants pocket, wrapping his fingers around his pocketknife as a sense of security. And preparation, of course. 

Tucker answered the phone and shoved it in between his shoulder and his ear. “That was quick. Eager to hear my voice again?”

He rolled up his sleeves and turned the knob next to the faucet so that water started running.

Wash grinned. “I wouldn’t go as far as eager. Ah, poor little Tucker, left alone by the elusive Church to slave over the kitchen sink. However will you manage.”

Tucker sniffed dramatically as he began to scrub away at the pot, “He’s a slave driver, I swear. He doesn’t cook, he doesn’t clean. He comes home and expects food and cleanliness. I’m just a trophy wife, my friend. Actually, trophy wives marry guys with money! Trophy wives get maids!" Tucker yelled in the direction of Church’s room.

“What are you yelling at, Tucker?” Church yelled back.

“Nothing, darling,” Tucker responded and chuckled. “Somehow I think I’ll get through this. Maybe with some therapy.”

Washington huffed. “Have fun with that. I never liked any of the therapists I went to. Maybe I'm just biased. Are there really that many dishes?”

Now it was Tucker’s turn to huff. “Do I seem like the type of person to embellish for dramatic effect?”

He paused.

"Don’t answer that. It’s a goddamn mountain, but I’m only gonna wash one for the mac and cheese. The problem is that I think Caboose tried to make something in it a couple of weeks ago…"

"That’s worrying. Please don’t die, I'd hate to be left alone in class." Washington said, smiling as he saw he’d finally reached his street.

Tucker rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t wanna put you in a that terrible position, would I? So when are you free?” Tucker let out a triumphant noise as a dried up piece of…something…was finally scrubbed away from the side of the pot.

"The night of almost every day of this week. I don’t have much of a life, I know." Washington sighed, as he fished around his pocket for his keys. "Ugh, finally home. I hate walking home alone at night. Always feel like somebodies following me, you know?"

"Yeah, I always have this feeling that somebody’s watching me," Tucker shrugged. "I have to go to an orchestra concert for Junior tomorrow night, but how about Thursday? Or you could eat tomorrow night and you could go to the concert with us? Or is tomorrow night too soon? I haven’t dated in a while."

Tucker pouted at another stubborn dried up something and started scrubbing harder than he probably should to get it off.

"Then I guess we’re both in the same boat. What does Junior play? I used to play the cello, but I stopped. Anyway, if it wouldn’t be weird, I'm fine with coming, or not. Whatever you want to do. I"m pretty flexible." He said, as he opened the door, waving at North and Carolina on the coach as he passed them. Carolina fixed him with a smug expression.

Tucker let out a squeak of surprise as the pot slipped and knocked over a glass of water, which spilled all over the counter. He muttered curses underneath his breath before turning his attention to Wash. “Junior is a violin prodigy. He started whenever he was like seven and blew everybody away. I don’t know how he does it. And I take any excuse to brag about my little brother, so tomorrow night. The concert starts at seven, so I’ll pick you up at six for dinner?”

He grabbed a towel and threw it over the spilled water, praying that he remembers to clean it up before Sheila gets home.

Washington tossed his bag onto his bed and kicked off his shoes, wincing at the sound of a crash on the other line.

"Sounds like a plan. And you should brag, sounds like an amazing kid. You really care about him a lot. It’s important to have people who care about you in life, no matter how gifted you are." 

Tucker finished up the pot and filled it with water. He put it on the stove to boil and focused on cleaning up the spilled water. “Yeah. I”m afraid that if I don’t brag about him, no one will. He’s great, though. You’ll love the concert. It’s not like a junior high concert, though. He’s in a…pretty advanced orchestra for his age. So, how were your classes?”

Tucker frowned at the now disgustingly wet towel and threw it into the laundry hamper before starting in on the mountain of dishes to be put in the dishwasher.

"I’ve got two in the main art hall, and one in the technical career center, and one on friday in the west wing of the Delta building." Washington said, opening his laptop with his free hand. North called for him to come eat, but he ignored him for the moment.

"No, hon, I meant how were they? Did you meet another hot stranger who is also vying for your attention? Did you get stuck in a group for the entire semester with people that you already hate? Did a professor hit on you? Did someone steal your bag? Did you make a friend? Did you sit next to someone who smells strongly of cinnamon, but you suspect might have just gotten away with murder?” Tucker smiled as he loaded the dishes into the old appliance.

"Oh! Sorry, my phone has shitty audio. They were kinda boring in a social respect, mostly because I make it a strict policy to keep to myself in classes. Doesn’t always work out, and I get stuck with a hot sassy guy." Washington fake-sighed, smiling to himself. 

Tucker huffed dramatically. “Those hot sassy guys. Can’t pay attention in class with ‘em, and no known ways to completely get rid of them. Do you think you can manage?”

"Tucker?" A small voice behind him caught Tucker’s attention.

"Hold on, Wash," He spoke into the phone before smiling down at his little brother. "Hey there, kiddo. I’m making you some dinner. Do you wanna stay over tonight?"

Junior smiled widely and jerked his head up and down in a nod, his eyes roaming all over the kitchen.

"Okay, do you wanna go play with Caboose and Freckles until dinner?" Junior repeated the nod and left the kitchen. "Alright, babe, I’m back."

Washington overheard the tone of Tucker’s voice when he spoke to his brother, and he grinned widely. Tucker came back on the line, and Wash just laughed.

"You’re the first person to ever call me by a pet name that isn’t offensive, you know. Even my grandma called me "little shit". I’m frankly honored by the title."

Tucker laughed. “Your grandma calls you a little shit? I’m honored to give you a pet name that isn’t offensive. What about “angel” or “honey”? Are those both acceptable? Because I have this thing where I use pet names a lot.”

Tucker finished up with the top of the dishwasher and grinned to himself. Progress.

"Oh god, don’t go to sappy on me, I might choke on the flowers and rainbows." Washington complained, plugging his camera cord into his Mac with his free hand.

"I thought that we’ve already established that I’m sappy as fuck, but you’ll have to reschedule the rainbows and flowers. Don’t want you dead before our date," Tucker grinned. "Would you rather get offensive pet names?"

"I’m sure you’ve got a billion of those up your sleeve as well. So, you wanted the one of you laughing for Junior? How big do you want it printed off?" He asked, flicking through the image capture. 

"A billion? Underestimating me already?" Tucker grinned as the bottom rack of the dishes filled up. "And anything that’s convenient." He took a step back and admired the no dishes in the sink and full dishwasher. "I have just performed a miracle. You’re dating a miracle worker."

"I’m honored, truly, however will I live up to your glory?" Washington asked, deciding on a 3" by 4" and sending it to the printer. He swung around his his computer chair as he waited.

Tucker narrowed his eyes at his phone. “Your sarcasm is cheapening my miracle.” He checked the water in the pan and poured in the shell pasta whenever he saw that it was boiling. “I don’t think you understand how much of an achievement this is. There are no dishes in my sink.”

"My apologies, O Mighty Dishslayer. Should I throw you a parade instead? I’m very good with confetti." Washington laughed, shutting his laptop.

Tucker huffed and pouted. “Dick. That’s your new pet name.” He set the timer for ten minutes and half sat half leaned against the island in the kitchen.

"At least it’s accurate." Washington agreed, heading out of his room into the kitchen to investigate whatever the heavenly smell was. Some casserole was sitting on the counter. He really loved having roommates sometimes. 

Tucker snorted. “What and ‘babe’ isn’t? I hate to be the one to break this to you, sweetheart, but you’re hella fine.”

Washington rolled his eyes, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear as he used both hands to dish up. “I’m pretty sure that’s a matter of opinion.”

"No, babe. Its a matter of blonde hair, pale skin, freckles, gorgeous eyes, a body most models would kill for, a well-honed wit, and did I mentions your freckles? Because dayum." Tucker turned away from the phone as Sheila walked in. "Hey Sheila. Dinner should be ready in ten."

"Alright. I’ll tell Caboose and Church. Is Junior here?"

"Yeah, he’s playing with Caboose and Freckles."

"How bad is it this time?"

"I’m looking for a steady job. I can’t let her go after him again." Tucker spoke seriously. Sheila nodded and went to alert the dorm of food. Tucker turned back to the phone. "Sorry about that. Sheila got home."

Washington blushed at Tucker’s description, and took a large bite of his dinner. By the time he swallowed, Tucker was back on the line.

"You remind me of North, making dinner for everyone and taking care of your younger sibling. Only, I don’t want to make out with North. That would be…practically incest." Washington shuddered. 

Tucker laughed. “Well, if I don’t make them eat, they’d all just starve or Caboose would try to cook.” Tucker shuddered. “And I hope you don’t wanna make out with North. I’m counting on no competition for your affections. Trust me, whenever compared to other people, I don’t seem as great as I do whenever it’s just me.”

Tucker swallowed a little bit. He knew that it was just the lasting hole in his self confidence that was made whenever he came home to Felix, but he couldn’t help but trip and fall down it every now and then.

"Oh, trust me, I'd pick you if you had any competition." Washington assured him, carrying his plate back to his room, ignoring York’s comment about pre-teen lovebirds. I wonder if he’d be so infatuated with me if he knew more. 

Tucker chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “The feelings mutual.”

He was sure that Wash didn’t know how much the words ‘I’d pick you’ meant to him, but they were like a calming salve over his bruised self image. I wonder if he’d be so infatuated with me if he knew more. Tucker shook his head. He shouldn’t think about that.

Washington plopped down on his bed and sighed. “Been a long day, but a good one. You should probably go hang out with your brother and all that lot.”

Tucker sighed. “Yeah. I guess. I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

Wash nodded, even though Tucker couldn’t see him. “Yeah, bright and early, unfortunately.”

"I’ll see you then." Tucker bit his bottom lip. He knew that he was drawing this out, but he really didn’t want to hang up. He also didn’t want to do that cliche ‘no you hang up’ shit, but he still didn’t want to hang up.

Washington hesitated. “Uh, yeah. Later.” He said. After a silent moment, he forced himself to hit the end call button.

He sat there for a good ten minutes, just staring at the phone, until he returned to his food. He wondered if Maine had ever thought of calling him babe or something like that. Probably not, not even back in beginning, before hell set in. 

He shouldn’t even be thinking about that- Tucker was everything Maine hadn’t been, to his knowledge. He hoped it stayed that way. Part of him churned in dread. It had been nice in the beginning with Maine, to. He hoped that his bad luck didn’t carry to his new relationship. But if it did, it wouldn’t be like last time. He would be out of there at the slightest sign of trouble- he had learned his lesson. But he didn’t think it would, based on how Tucker acted with Junior. Someone that caring would never turn and hurt someone they cared about, right? 

He hoped so. He really liked Tucker. He picked at his casserole, and thought about the way the sunlight had filtered through the broken windows of that old house.

**Author's Note:**

> playlist: http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/twenty-questions  
> wash: me  
> tucker: sarcastissa


End file.
